


to be or not to be.

by lcvelylupin



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 20:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12896685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lcvelylupin/pseuds/lcvelylupin
Summary: Should  I tear my eyes out now? Everything I see returns to you somehow.Should I tear my heart out now? Everything I feel returns to you somehow.- Sufjan Stevens - The Only Thing___Todd grieves for Neil.





	to be or not to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched Dead Poets Society earlier this year, and for some reason this rewatch really resonated with me. And I’ve fallen down the anderperry rabbit hole. 
> 
> If you wanted angst, you came to the right place.

Todd doubts he knew what love was before Neil; his parents prove to only spare enough for one son.

Neil showed him how it felt to be loved. He dared to believe in him when no one else would. Perhaps because his parents didn’t believe in him, either. 

It’s been two months since he died.

Todd tosses and turns. With each blink, he sees Neil’s breath as it trailed from his lips in the cave. He sees him blowing warmth into his hands, he sees the fire that crackled in his eyes, the kind that threatened to burn and consume him. Neil reminds him of snow, of freezing, trembling, red fingers wrapping around a jacket, snapping branches underfoot. Childish whispers in the dark. The taste of blood on chapped lips; a flickering lantern. 

He looks at the night’s shadow and how it makes a home out of Neil’s bed. He blinks twice; he wonders where Neil is, and if he should go find him. 

A dreadful, dreadful cold claws at the windowpanes and swallows Todd whole.

He’d given himself six months at most at Welton before pulling the trigger. 

But Neil stepped between him and the gun as soon as their eyes met on Todd’s first day, and something told him, something pulled him by the neck and begged him. He shouldn’t go through with it.

He couldn’t. 

Todd turns over.

He is continuously chewed and spit out by grief.

___

Guilt is purgatory in its purest form. 

He should’ve known after many early mornings at the cave, where both of them knew nothing of consequences. When Neil started to waver onto uncharted territory; into someone Todd didn’t know anymore. Into someone no one knew about. Somewhere he didn’t hide behind capital-N Neil, who was supposed to come into a room and charm everyone off their feet like a thunderstorm raging at sea. 

That was who he was supposed to be. In the cave, he was who he was meant to be. 

He was just a boy. 

He was just a frightened boy. 

But he wasn’t just anyone to Todd. 

His brain was a broken, static ridden radio, fading in and out. 

_He...should...have. Known...should. he...should’ve-_

Had Neil known? What had he seen when he’d looked into Todd’s eyes? 

Those three words stung like a whip to his back.

Had he seen someone worth saving? 

Todd is numb. 

He has so much love in his body, a love which could break every one of his bones if the universe allowed it. A love that was so reckless within him that it tore through every single thought, every single excuse and every single anxiety. 

Yet, it cowers before his lips and stays imprisoned in his teeth; yet through all of this, Todd only knew one thing: 

In the end, his love wouldn’t have been enough to save him. God knows he would’ve tried anything, _every goddamn thing_ , regardless. 

He had given himself a year before he’d confess his love to Neil. After Welton, at most. He blushes at how obnoxiously childish it all was; it made his head spin. 

He started to write Neil poems. He’d write Neil poems and drop them in all his schoolbooks, or his jacket pockets. They were about everything that Todd loves about Neil. Except Todd never signed them, or gave out any clues. A secret admirer. 

Todd remembers so clearly how Neil would come into the room and start to mumble excitedly to him that he had found a new one. How it seemed to be this electrifying moment that existed only between them. Powerful, intimate, subtle and quiet. A brush of hands, crinkling paper and a quivering knee.

__

They were coming to clear out his space of the dormitory at the end of the week. An overwhelming, crippling terror overcame Todd’s heart. 

He kept them. And Todd had absolutely no idea where Neil could’ve hid them. 

Todd couldn’t breathe. He chokes, sobs and trembles, red faced and desperate up the stairs. Before they could get to them - unless, somehow, someone already had. He trips at the threshold of the door, nearly taking the aging knob clean off. 

Todd tore through Neil’s desk,he threw the drawers off to the side, he shuffles through papers and books, finding nothing, until -

Until, amidst the tornado of paper, he finds a shoebox at the furthest end of Neil’s bed; out of reach and out of sight through thick cobwebs and the smell of must. He had read them multiple times, the pages wilting at the corners, showing hints of small rips at the bottom edges. 

___

Todd went home for the holidays. His face is tinted in orange; his eyes reflect not life, but flames. A bead of sweat made its way down his forehead. 

Todd’s bony hands shook as they held the notebook of poems. Each letter weighed tons. 

He threw them in. The fire crackles and pops indifferently, taking over not only the notebook, but the entire room, consuming the lanky, worn, weary boy who stood in front of it. He is nothing more than a shadow.

He walks away.

He remembers every single one of them anyway. 

___

Todd’s breath moves like a spirit throughout the cave. Sometimes, he comes here to see if he’d feel anything; but it had been so long since their last dead poets meeting that all sense of warmth, all sense of belonging, was gone. 

He won’t allow himself to remember. 

He won’t allow himself to remember how Neil’s eyes would hold his. Todd could never drown in them; they made him feel invincible, they took him to a place within himself where he felt safe. Todd felt so vulnerable during these moments, yet so, so exhilarated all at once; he’d follow Neil to the ends of the universe. 

When he looked into Neil’s eyes, for once in his life, he wasn’t afraid. 

When Neil had spoken so tenderly to the dark, after the others had left, Todd would let himself create a future in which they could be together. In which they didn’t have to be half asleep messes, sleepwalking through their sentences. In the morning, their words became dreams they couldn’t quite recall. 

The moments they could recall were the ones where they didn’t have to speak at all. The ones where their eyes would chase each other playfully over the planes of their faces. Teasing. Testing. Their hearts playing a dangerous game. 

Neil had almost given in. Almost. 

Those moments hurt the most. 

His mouth had been open, slightly, shuddering out nervous exhalations. It almost didn’t feel real, the way the light of the flashlight elongated his eyelashes and made his eyes look like two individual suns; he was just a projection flickering on the wall. Todd had no choice but to rotate around them, never getting the courage to get too close, but yearning for his heat. His cheeks were pink. He couldn’t look away. 

Todd was so intrigued by how nervous Neil became around him. Neil wanted to love him, he wanted Todd to feel as special as he thought him to be. He knew that words, poetry... wasn’t enough. 

Neil blinked twice and looked down. Click click. Switch. In his mind, the clock had struck midnight. Reality beckoned them with a gust of wind. The breeze had swept the moment up like it was nothing, blowing out the fire in Neil’s eyes like a birthday candle.

He wasn’t enough for Todd. 

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Charlie. 

Charlie sits beside him. He stares; two months ago they would’ve felt miles away from each other. Slouching in the cave now, they look the same. Pale, red eyed and betrayed. 

“When I first came to Welton, I was scared out of my mind. I wasn’t like the other boys. My family, they aren’t rich, Anderson. While the others strive to be scientists or doctors like their fathers, my parents sacrifice every penny so that I can avoid being like them,”

Todd had never heard Charlie be this open about his feelings. I guess the cave brought that out in everyone. That was the magic. 

“I never spoke up in class, because I thought I’d never measure up. The other boys, they’re so much smarter than me, they have the money, the contacts. A future. And no matter how hard I tried, I was still lagging behind.”

Charlie laughs humorlessly. “I looked at Neil and wanted to be like him. Involved, confident, charming and smart,” he swallows. “And somewhere along the way, I started having feelings for him. I don’t know if they were real, or if I was just attracted to the fact that he was someone I could never be.”

Todd finally looks him in the eye.

Charlie knew. Charlie understood. 

“He taught me that I could be all of those things. Those weren’t things you could buy. He taught me that I needed to use my struggle as a strength. Because all of them know how to crunch numbers, but none of them know what it’s like to be poor. None of them know gratefulness like I do. Thanks to Neil, my differences gave me a voice. And I will forever be in debt to him for that. I can tell he gave you a voice, too.”

Except it was gone, except Neil was gone, except Todd hadn’t spoken since Keating left.

Tears fall silently from Charlie’s face, but he makes no effort to wipe them away. He looks Todd in the eyes and holds his hand like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. 

“I want you to know that he loved you.”

“But did he know that? That _I-”_

Charlie holds him, because that’s what friends do; put each other back together again, piece by piece. His jacket is patched with tears. 

“He didn’t know he was _loved, Charlie.”_

They sit there, shivering. The silence feels different when it allows another person; suddenly it didn’t feel like the world was crashing down on his shoulders. 

“Tell Meeks you love him,” Todd says, “before it kills you.” 

Charlie’s mouth tilts up slightly, but he doesn’t reply. 

___

The sun was starting to rise over the city. For the first time in a long time, Todd wasn’t awake to greet it. 

He slept through the night. 

Every morning, an inexplicable joy seizes his heart, because he’s in New York City! The home of dreamers and word weavers. 

New York! He studies literature, writing and poetry. He’d published his first set of poems just the week before. 

It has been two years since he died. 

Except now, he doesn’t wonder where Neil is. 

He never left. 

Neil is within every word, every stanza he breathes. 

Being up on stage, projecting his voice out to the audience, it didn’t scare him like it used to.  
He had grown to love the vulnerability. Vulnerability gave him a power he couldn’t explain. 

____

____

When he was on stage, he could see Neil in his periphery, smiling at him. Looking at him like he was the only voice in the room. The only person that mattered. 

He goes to plays every few months. 

He remembers the first few he ever went to, and how he could never make it towards the end. He’d rush outside for a breath of fresh air. 

__

_For a second, just one, he’d see Neil on stage, elegantly reciting his lines. He’d be moving gracefully away into a universe in which he didn’t have to be himself._

_The world would rotate on its axis a tad too fast. His head would spin and start to hurt. He could taste bile at the back of his throat. For a second, just for a second, he would be furious with Keating. If he hadn’t opened up the book of verse, if he hadn’t tried out for goddamn Midsummer Night’s Dream...Neil would still be here, snoring softly from the bed across!_

____

_____ _

_But it wouldn’t have mattered. Neil would’ve been a slave to his father’s wishes and felt trapped in a job he didn’t choose. He would’ve drowned in the regret. Maybe it was inevitable. Todd wondered if it was meant to be. More meant to be than a relationship between them._

__

_He’d slump down on the brick wall and stare into space. He’d feel numb all over again.  
_ _God, he was so tired of the crying…what good did it do? Todd had nothing more to get rid of. He’d worn himself thin._

_“Hey. Hey, are you alright?”_

__

_A warm hand rested on his shoulder. It took him nearly a minute to register it._

__

_A man was kneeling in front of him, a concerned look in his pretty green eyes. His face still had a dash of makeup on it. He must’ve been one of the actors. Everything was bleak in Todd’s mind. He couldn’t remember seeing him on stage._

__

_“Can you hear me? Are you okay?” It still sounded distant, but closer to Earth than before._

_“Y-yes,” Todd managed to reply. The cold bit him fiercely and he remembered he’d ran out without his coat._

__

_The stranger helped him up. His brown hair was dotted with snowflakes._

_“Jesus, you’re freezing. Have my coat.”_

__

_He helped Todd put it on, talking to him softly, as one would a child. It was incredibly comfortable and smelled a bit like pine…_

_“I’m William,” he told Todd, “William Allen.”_

____

_And suddenly, Todd remembered his face from the playbill; he was playing Puck._

__

__

__

_William’s eyes were warm like a campfire. Kind of like Neil’s, Todd thought, but they didn’t consume him. They made him feel loved, nurtured and not like he was a phoenix being burned alive and reborn. It didn’t hurt, looking at him. It wasn’t so goddamn complicated._

_Except Todd didn’t know this at the time, and he wanted to just jump in the flames. He was made stupid by his pain. Anything to fill the lack._

__

____

_“T-todd. Todd A-anderson.”_

__

_“Well, Todd Anderson,” he began, his breath visible in the late night, “I know it’s not exactly the best idea to go home with strangers in New York City, but I don’t trust you on your own. Do you want to stay at my apartment for tonight? I’ll hail a cab,”_

__

_Todd was so unbelievably cold that he could only nod. William blew warmth into his hands as they waited. He didn’t ask any more questions that night._

Leave it to Todd to fall for another actor. Leave it to Todd to fall for a Puck.

___

It was alright for a while, Todd supposes. Though not nearly as perfect as he’d hoped or envisioned it. The artist’s curse. 

He’s been dating William since a few months after that moment outside the theatre. It’s lovely; he's always running from place to place, getting Todd out of the house on his bad days. Sometimes, he can barely keep up. William keeps him busy, keeps him on his toes and steers Todd back to sanity again when he strays. 

Todd doesn’t know why he bothers. 

Because sometimes, the grief hits him like an oncoming train. Because when the sun comes down, those terrors still creep in, tiptoeing around his brain. In the mornings, Neil’s name would be on his lips, and William just held him. He wonders how much longer until his love wouldn’t envelope them both. 

He loves Neil, he does, but sometimes, Todd wishes he’d let him go. He wishes he’d make enough room in his own heart for another person. 

_I want you to know that he loved you._

Todd awoke, gasping softly into the cool bedroom. 

He looks at William now, asleep next to him. His mouth is open, his glasses askew. A book lays face down on his chest. 

He had stayed up in case Todd awoke. 

Todd smiles, subtly. 

He decides that maybe it’s time to love himself. 

It’s time he let others love him. 

Neil never got a happy ending, but that didn’t mean that Todd didn’t deserve one.

That was the only thing Neil would have wanted.


End file.
